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“Join the club.”
Maybe I felt instantly connected to him because I could sense he was broken like me. I wondered what his parents were like, but didn’t want to pry. I bumped my shoulder into him as we walked back. “Why don’t you get a new one?”
“No.” The harsh, painful syllable broke my heart. “Sorry. But no. I can’t.”
“I understand.”
He sighed and we continued the trek in silence, with the exception of me calling for Henry every once in a while, until we reached the building. Scotty walked over to my door and held the flashlight on his phone close to the handle. “You said your door was open. You think you accidentally left it that way when you came in this morning?”
“I’m always super careful, so I don’t think so, but I must have.”
“There aren’t any cameras around here, are there?”
“No.”
He pressed his lips together and wrapped his fingers around the handle. “Come on, I’ll walk you in.”
“You don’t need to do that.”
“I don’t care. I am.”
“I was just going to get a blanket and sit out here in case he comes back.”
His shoulders slumped. “Anything I can say to convince you otherwise?”
“No.”
“All right. I’m still walking you in.”
My babies were waiting for me, and as soon as Scotty and I were inside, I began cooing at them. “I know you’re scared. I am too, but it’ll be all right.” I didn’t care that I sounded like a lunatic in front of Scotty. “Your brother will be back soon.”
“Are they actually related?”
“Yes. They’re from the same litter. This is Charlie.” I pointed at the light gray tabby. “These two darker gray ones are Mike and Ike. Skittles is the spotted one for obvious reasons. And Henry is orange.”
He crouched down, and Charlie bumped his fingers with her head. “He’s friendly.”
“She’s a girl. And yes, second friendliest. Henry wins first place for that.”
“So where’s a litter box?” He put his palms on his bended knees and pushed up.
To my surprise, he wasn’t looking down at me like I was psychotic. But he was about to. “The second bedroom is theirs.”
“All right. Stay here.” He touched my shoulder as he passed, and I giggled as Ike hissed at him. I also smiled because he didn’t tell me I was nuts to give my cats their own bedroom. He reappeared with the bottom of one of the five litter boxes in just a couple of minutes. “Can you get some food to put out?”
“Yes.” I scratched Skittles head and commanded, “Go back to bed.”
I avoided the angry looks from all the other cats as I filled a bowl, and when I got outside with it, Scotty had set the litter box in the corner, brought over a chair, and was just tossing a blanket on mine. He scrunched his nose at the smell of the food and murmured, “That should do it.”
“What are you doing?”
“You’re not sleeping out here alone, so I’m joining you.”
“Scotty, you do—”
He cut me off with an irritated sigh as he said my name. “It’s late. I’m tired. You’re tired. I genuinely care about you, Paris, and even if I didn’t, I wouldn’t let my female neighbor sit outside by herself. So please, just sit in your chair and go to sleep.”
Pressing my lips together because I felt like an idiot for always assuming the worst, I put the bowl down and plopped my butt into the comfy cocoon-like chair. “You really don’t have to do this,” I reiterated, only because I knew he was going to be uncomfortable in his plastic lawn chair.
